December
by hellaphant
Summary: After a mission goes wrong and her father doesn't return, Marilyn Addams finds herself somewhat lost, and is hoping to find herself again with the help of some crew members. This is my first piece of fanfiction posted here, so I'd really appreciate some reviews or follows or whatever. Marilyn and any other characters you don't recognize are mine.
1. Bad News Bowling

**I don't own Star Trek or any recognizable characters like Data, Wes or Troi. Lynn, her other friends and her father are mine though.**

* * *

She hopped helplessly from one foot to the other in a poor attempt at dodging the many, many people in the corridors. It wasn't usually this crowded, but after having everyone who was anyone in one room, you can't really expect there not to be a line for the lift. The doors opened quietly and a few people stepped in, and they were yet again waiting. A small group of the crew had opted to take a shorter route, which probably involved more walking and awkward small talk.

"Excuse me," she said in a small voice as she tried to push through the crowd. Echoes of "Yes, sorry," and "If you could just," left her mouth until she was at the front, right in front of the lift when it opened.

She stepped in carefully and tried to find a corner in the circular elevator, without result of course, in an attempt to avoid conversation. It didn't work. "Marilyn," Troi began. "It's nice to see you again. You spend so much time in your father's quarters, we hardly see you anymore."

"I've been very busy with my lessons," Lynn nodded. "It feels great to get out and see everyone though," she added politely.

"If you wouldn't mind speaking with me in private," the counselor offered, "I'd like to talk to you about something."

There it was. Everybody was always wanting to 'talk to' her, which really meant they wanted to lecture her about how they knew she was upset, but that she needed to interact with people her age. She wasn't any good at interacting with people her age! She was awkward at best most days save the sudden bursts of something that was probably either confidence or want of fitting in that occurred occasionally around people she found particularly interesting.

"That sounds lovely. I have a few assignments to finish up, but they can wait," she said as they left the lift.

She was fine when talking to adults; more than fine, actually. Older people treated her like a child, but it was a goal to make them see how responsible and mature and not childish she was, and that gave her something to do. Troi was one of the few crew members who didn't think of her as the small child she was when she came to meet them all, separately. This was partially because there were entire groups of people she hadn't even said hello to since then, which included many of the highest ranking officers. She wasn't even sure that the Captain knew she was aboard anymore until just recently.

"My father isn't here right now, so if this was a discussion you wanted to have as a family, you're out of luck," Lynn smiled as they entered.

The room was messy in the way that an artist or genius's might be, though she considered herself neither. There were paintings scattered on the walls and a few on the floors, and they appeared to be of various crew members, some of which she didn't even know the names of but had observed at work or in the lounge when she got out. There were also numerous books laying on the floor by the bed and in a small corner of the room. The corner had a small, wrinkled blanket and a pillow on the floor, along with pencils and notebooks, both of which were considered 'old fashioned.' Her bed was made neatly though, and there was a couch, too, with pillows and folded blankets on it.

"It looks like you sleep everywhere but your bed," Troi commented.

"Yes, sorry! I didn't know you would be dropping by, I'd have cleaned up a bit or something," she apologized ferociously.

The look on the counselor's face was one of astonishment and worry. Never had she seen such a young woman, only sixteen, fret so much over anything other than some boy she thought she couldn't live without. "It's fine, it's just very lived in," the counselor assured her. "Take a seat."

"Right, what was it you wanted to talk about?"

* * *

In the lounge, she sat with two other kids her age.

There was Denise, a human girl with a blonde hair, blue eyes combo to kill for and ambitions of working in a university someday. Lynn had a painting of her somewhere in her room, of her in their history class when she was so engulfed in the lesson that she didn't even notice that Lynn was looking at her.

The other was a half betazoid, half human boy called Hayden, who was very interested in going into Starfleet security. He hated nearly every class and, from what she could tell, only enjoyed the moments they were allowed to socialize and be friendly with each other.

And then there was her. Marilyn Addams, daughter of a little mentioned but still very, very important engineer aboard the ship. She was a very unconfident girl, with brownish, redish hair that fell just below her shoulders, green eyes, and an extreme want to be a captain of her own ship someday.

The last of their merry band of unsociable, or in Hayden's case, unliked teens was Wesley Crusher, who was running late. They assumed, as usual, that he was working on something in engineering. He was good at working there, and it was something he loved to do, but he still ended up in their out-crowd, as she was thinking of it as.

"Where even is that kid?" Denise asked bitterly, as they had been sitting there for nearly ten minutes.

"You know how he is," Lynn responded. "He'll be here soon and if he isn't, we could at least try to make conversation."

"Alright," Hayden offered a saucy, devilish grin and added, "Why don't you two lovely ladies tell me more about yourselves."

As if on cue, Wes came running in, apologizing for being late and saying he knew the perfect thing they could do.

"Bowling?" the girls asked in unison.

"Yeah, it's the one where you try-" Hayden began.

"We know what it is," Denise quipped.


	2. Misfit Robots

**Again: I don't own Star Trek or any recognizable characters like Data, Wes or Troi. Lynn, her other friends and her father are mine though.**

* * *

Bowling with the other inhabitants of the island of misfit toys was more fun than any of them had expected it to be, besides Wes, who was already excited from the beginning. The holodeck was usually a nice place to be and offered a wonderful refuge from the outside world, but she didn't realize it would be cool with other people there, too. It was especially cool when a few senior officers, high up members of the crew, came too, and had a little competition.

It was almost saddening to see all of these people outside of work, and to see that she really didn't know them as well as she'd like to. Seeing people on the main bridge or down in engineering, you'd think that they didn't live any other life than that which you saw there, but in holodeck you could tell that they were real people who do real things and have real feelings.

She was, of course, amazed by the skill of almost every player in the other, older group. It seemed impossible to her that people who were always so busy saving people and making important discoveries got any down time, or spent it playing silly games like this. She relished the chance to meet again officers that hadn't really communicated with since she was relatively young, especially the one she'd nearly forgotten all about.

As a little girl, she thought that Commander Data was just a humanoid man with a skin color she'd never seen before, and she thought that was pretty cool. It wasn't until she was thirteen that she was aware that he was technically a machine, and that, as well, was insanely cool. Of course she wondered about the usual things like his computing speeds and ungodly memory, but she couldn't help but find herself wondering what he felt. As an android, with no emotion disc that she knew of, she knew he would probably deny that he felt anything at all, but she had seen him every once in a while with Geordi in engineering and they were best friends. You can't have a best friend without feelings.

"Marilyn," the android mentioned as they were preparing to leave. "Counselor Troi has suggested that I speak with you about what has happened with your father."

"I know you guys are just trying to help, but I really don't need help coping with anything. I won't be aboard much longer anyway and I'd hate to trouble everyone," she rambled politely.

"You know that for one hundred sixteen days it was thought that your father was taken as a captive of the Cardassians, is this correct?" He continued when she nodded. "You were recently informed of his death, is this correct?" Again, she merely nodded. "You had been hoping for his safe return, just as the rest of the crew had. I have been informed of how difficult this process has been for you."

Almost four months ago, her father had gone on an away mission to help a Cardassian ship that had sent out a distress call, which, she thought, could have easily been a trap. As per usual, he came back to their quarters and gave her a hug, telling her he would be back soon and she would ask him to be safe, as the ritual always went. He would blow her a kiss as he walked out the door, and she'd tell him that she was sixteen, not six, and they would both laugh. She was right though, it was a trap, and they walked right into it. Two of the four crew members returned, and they called her down to the main bridge to inform her that Lieutenant Joshua Addams had been taken prisoner by a band of Cardassians. They hugged her and told her that everything would be alright.

"I'm managing well," she said, trying to keep all emotion out of her voice.

"It has come to the counselor's attention that you have not been interacting with many members of the Enterprise recently, and she has asked me to encourage you to come to a dinner in honor of your father and Lieutenant Oliver Blaine."

"Why would she have you ask me? Until just now I was sure you didn't even know my name," she questioned, avoiding actually accepting the offer.

"She believes that you will respond more easily to, as she put it, 'someone who didn't treat you like a child,'" he answered matter-of-factly. "I was instructed to tell you that if you do not accept, she will 'drag your lazy butt down to Ten-Forward.'"

She smiled at that. Troi was one of the few people she really could be herself around. Mainly because she'' get her 'lazy butt' kicked if she didn't. Troi had been there for her whenever she needed counseling, even before her father went missing.

"Yes, I'll go. I'm guessing it will be before I leave, so probably this week, right?" she asked.

"That is correct. The dinner will be tonight, but I have also been asked to offer that you remain on the Enterprise for the remainder of your schooling."

Her 'schooling' consisted of mathematics lessons twice a week, English once, music thrice, physics once and history twice. In the past four months, she'd switched music teachers, without giving anyone a reason except that the class was too 'hands on' for her, which most of the kids meant that the teacher was too 'handsy,' moved into advanced physics and mathematics classes and completed every single assignment in her English course and made to move on to other languages. Her history class was the only one that was a static thing, one that never changed and she could always count on.

"I couldn't possibly impose on the crew for that much longer," she smiled, but there was a twinge of sadness in it.

"You would not be imposing at all. Your skills have proven necessary in many situations in engineering and security, and we have reason to believe that you are part of the reason the other students are excelling in their studies," he informed her.

She didn't really think either of those things, but she may have bailed some other kids out on their homework or offered to assist some engineers figure something out 'like a million years ago.' The truth was that she was a pretty helpful person. There were many times she'd volunteered to help out with a breakthrough in engineering, or lend a hand in security, and of course she'd offer to give someone a leg up on, English assignments or the occasional math problem.

"Well, that's very kind of you but I'll have to think it over," she responded quickly. "Commander Data, I heard you were quite the artist. Would you mind showing me some of your work?"


	3. Long Speeches

**I still don't own Star Trek, sadly, but Marilyn and Denise and those guys are mine.**

* * *

Her room had gotten messier since the counselor's last visit almost two weeks ago. Since then, she had broken her dresser (and three knuckles), moved her bed two feet to the right, strewn clothes all of the place and apparently forgotten how to clean. That, she thought, needed to change.

She looked around, leaning down to pick up some clothes from the floor. It amazed her to think how just four months ago, her father would've been in the room next to hers. Or that he would've been telling her that this was unacceptable. She knew she needed to stop whatever it was that she was doing, so she decided to try and fix things. Starting with her quarters.

* * *

"And let's not forget about that virus that made people act intoxicated. Do you remember what your father did?"

She laughed a little at the opening of the sentence, "I was a little wrapped up in what I was doing."

The doctor laughed along with her, but it was the polite, social event kind of laugh, when everything was too serious to really be laughing. She was always a fan of Doctor Crusher, not only because she was friends with her son, but because of how nice she was whenever Marilyn was sent to sickbay, which wasn't often.

"I did hear though," Lynn continued, "That it had something to do with another _male _officer, so it must've been a tale for the ages."

"Oh dear," Riker commented as he walked by. "Not _this_ story." Lynn smiled and attempted introduce herself, but he wouldn't allow it. "I know who you are," he smiled politely.

Of course he knew who she was. It was stupid to even introduce herself. She wondered internally how stupid she could possibly be until Beverly interrupted her thoughts.

"Oh, Marilyn, I think Captain Picard wanted to talk to you," the doctor said as he made his way over to the group.

She straightened immediately, her back making a near perfect line and her feet coming together so that she was standing at attention. Her shoulders had picked themselves up and she looked like a soldier, aside from the baggy, dress-like shirt she wore. It was her father's, so it was bound to be too big, but she had lost quite a bit of weight in the past four months.

"At ease, Ms. Addams," the captain smiled.

Riker and Beverly looked on and they were amazed how the girl's nervous, slouching posture had changed so quickly, just hearing that the captain would be joining them. Riker grinned, but Beverly looked concerned.

"Sorry, it's a habit," she almost laughed, but quickly added, "Sir."

He smiled awkwardly, and she remembered hearing from him himself how he was bad with children, and she was slightly disheartened that he thought of her as a child. "Respect is the best habit I've heard so far, ensign." He put his hand on her shoulder and led her away from the group for a moment, making a face when he realized that her had flinched when he touched her. "I want you to say something, like a eulogy," he instructed.

"Sir," she began, "I'm not the best with words, I mean, I can hardly hold a conversation, much less give a speech."

It was true. She was, as she put it, awkward at best. It wasn't because of any specific thing, maybe just because she didn't interact with other children when she was smaller, or something like that. Her brothers were older than she was, the youngest being five years older. When she was five, he was ten and her other brother was thirteen, so the boys were close. They tried to include her as she got older, but when their mother died, the Gabriel old enough to move out and have Dawson live with him, leaving her to make her way aboard starships, which is hard for an eleven year old.

"You knew them best, and we would all appreciate if you tried," he insisted.

"Yeah," she paused, with a prolonged 'um' sound, "I can try."

He led her back to the group and then left to socialize more, telling her he would announce when it was time for her to deliver whatever she could think of between now and then. When the time came, she was shaky, nervous and all but ready to deliver.

"Okay," she began. "I didn't know I was supposed to do this until a couple of minutes ago, so bear with me." This earned a few chuckles throughout the crowd. "First of all, I want to say that I feel sorry for everyone who thinks we're just here to say goodbye to the two quietest men on the bridge, or just figures in engineering, because they were so much more than that. We're not here to mourn the loss of two people who did their jobs well, we're here to celebrate the lives of the two coolest guys I knew. These are the people who would be embarrassed if I told you they knew every word to Rivers and Roads, but were never too proud to sing it with me when I was upset. These are the people who worked together to hide my favorite disk with that very song on it, just so that I would clean my quarters. I had this speech mostly planned out when I started it, but it's kind of derailed itself. I'm not supposed to get up here and tell you all how much I miss them, even though I do," she smiled sadly, and she could see a few people in the crowd crying. She swallowed hard. "My favorite poet wrote about eight things we should remember when we lose someone. I thought it was just pretty sounding gibberish until I looked around at all of you today. He said that when we lose people, they're not really gone; what happened was that they were too great to be held back by something as silly as being alive. He said that when we lose someone, when someone," she had held back using the word that was most appropriate, because nobody wanted to hear it. Her eyes were filled with tears at this point, and at least three more people had started crying. "When someone _dies_, they don't go away; they become a part of us. He said that the little parts of them become part of someone else. I looked around and I saw my dad's sense of humor in someone I've never seen laugh before, and his best friend, Mr. Blaine's amazing voice in a little girl I've never heard speak, much less sing."

The captain put his hand on her should again, signaling that she should continue, but not for much longer.

"I forgot what the point of this speech was for a moment," she laughed breathlessly. "The point was - is - to remind everyone that even though we think we've lost crew members, we've lost so much more. It wouldn't matter who I was talking about, and this would still be true. The point is to remind everyone, including myself, that even though we've lost people, it's okay. And it's okay to be sad, but we have to remember that just because we can't see them, doesn't mean they're gone."

The captain leaned in and whispered, "That was beautiful," before leading her to her friends, all of whom were crying, especially Hayden.

She sometimes forgot that Hayden was half Betazoid, and that he could sense what she was feeling. No doubt that made the entire speech more emotional.

Multiple adults came up to her and thanked her for her speech, telling her how beautiful it was and how talented she was.

"Question," a hardly familiar android began. "You told the captain that you were 'not good with words.' Why would you say that if it was not truthful?"

"Well, Commander," Denise answered for her. "Sometimes lunkheads like Mary-Lynn can't admit that they're good at stuff. It's like they're allergic to knowing how cool they are."

"Ah," Data said as he processed what she'd said. He then attempted small talk with them and everyone but Marilyn, who was almost as bad at it as he was, sighed internally and excused themselves. After almost a half hour of discussing unimportant things, Data promised, as per her earlier request, to show her his paintings sometime in the near future.

She didn't leave until late, around elevenish, and she still couldn't sleep. She comm'd Denise, asking if she wanted to watch some twenty-first century romantic comedies with her and eat copious amounts of popcorn. They decided to see if the replicator could produce the twenty-first century delicacy Ramen Noodles, and, to their surprise, it did. The two cuddled on the couch interrupting the movie every now and then to make stupid comments or complain about something, until they both fell asleep sometime in the early morning.

* * *

**A/N: Wow is this an author's note? She's never done that before! **

**Anyways, sorry for the really long speech but it came to me in the shower that she she probably do a eulogy or something. The poem she's talking about is Pass On, by Michael Lee.**

**Also, I'm sorry this took so long to post! I don't have internet and my school internet has this site blocked and ugh so it takes like six billion years for me to be able to post stuff. **

**Oh my goodness, are Denise and Lynn gay? Probably not, but you never know. I pretty much just plan on the being super cool twenty-first century nerd bros. Pretty much they'd be the people who knew about Tumblr and other cool stuff like that.**

**I'm thinking of doing a chapter in the first person soon, just to try it out.**

**Reviews are love. Reviews are life.**


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